


glacial

by theredhoodie



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhoodie/pseuds/theredhoodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no powerful romance, but a camaraderie that Sara was growing attached to. She didn’t mean to; it wasn’t in the plan. She was supposed to steer clear from emotions because they were intense and scary, and here she was, finding herself getting painfully aware of how much the crafty criminal was digging his way into her heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	glacial

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with a few one/two line things for these two and finally decided to pull them together with a larger idea. I'm still exploring the DC world, but I love these characters to bits. I hope you don't find them OOC, I tried my hardest!

Sara learned long ago to never touch him first. Physical contact for Leonard did not present itself as a comfort, but rather something to avoid. She respected him enough to hint, but never touch. The first time he touched her out of his own volition startled her—she had gotten used to a certain kind of closed-off closeness with him.

"Want me to buy you a drink?" he asked, each word coming off his tongue like it was its own sentence.

He put his hand on her arm.

She wasn't startled enough to switch into fighting mode, but she still glanced questioningly from his hand to his face and back again before shrugging. His hand fell away and she tilted her head up at him.

"Sure thing."

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn't any sort of exclusive thing. No one on the ship was ready to go head first into a relationship. They were all just a group of fucked up people clinging to each other as they tried to save the world on a mad man's quest.

No one was looking for the white picket fence life.

Between the occasional touch, Sara flitted her way through the ages, kissing guys and girls and enjoying her second chance at life as much as she could. It was becoming a defense mechanism; don't get attached, get just enough of a rush of emotion to feed off of for a little while, and then disappear into the space-time continuum to never again kiss whoever's lips she had kissed in that decade.

It was simple really. And Leonard didn't care.

 

 

 

 

 

He wasn't cold actually. He was just as warm as any other human being. Sara always assumed his skin would be chilly, but it was firm and warm. The only part of him that was fiery. Even his anger and frustration was icy, his glares like being stabbed in the heart with dry ice.

At least he didn't treat Sara like some sort of damsel. They were equal in playing fields; their relationship, or whatever you wanted to call it, was built off of mutual respect for each other's abilities to take care of themselves.

There was no powerful romance, but a camaraderie that Sara was growing attached to. She didn't mean to; it wasn't in the plan. She was supposed to steer clear from emotions because they were intense and scary, and here she was, finding herself getting painfully aware of how much the crafty criminal was digging his way into her heart.

She had to stop it.

But it was so easy to just give in.

 

 

 

 

 

There was something different about kissing Leonard. He was cold and hard around the edges, his lips unforgiving. Instead of fiery passion, it was glacial power. He was always stiff in his movements. Sara didn't know if it was because he generally disliked human contact, or if that was just the way he always was.

It never bothered her. She just went with whatever he wanted, because it was never anything she didn't want. There wasn't a power struggle, per say, but Sara often took charge, another thing that Leonard didn't seem to mind. Her fingernails would drag over his scalp and shoulders and back and leave red marks as a reminder of the way she could get him worked up into a sweat.

There was never any cuddling afterward, but sometimes they'd find themselves falling into conversations before Leonard would get up and leave. They talked about the darkest parts of themselves that they kept locked close and shared with no one else. It was easy to talk to a stranger who you were close to, knowing their shit was just as bad as yours, and that it meant they wouldn't judge you.

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh, I beg your pardon," the girl had said, looking between the two of them. Leonard cleaned up nicely for 1867, tall hat and coat tails. "I assumed you were married. There's…there's no chaperone," she whispered, eyes on Sara.

Sara, dressed in a constrictive outfit of the times, corset and long skirts, hid a grimace with a smile. She tilted her head up to look at Leonard, who glanced at her with a look that she knew well. "We're cousins," she said, knowing very well how common it was to marry cousins in this time period. Her answer left the girl even more confused.

"Would you just tell Mr. Harrison that we've arrived," Leonard said, a statement not a question.

The girl curtsied shallowly and scurried off. Once she was out of sight, Sara turned to look at him and shook her head.

"Spoiling the fun, Mr. Snart," she smirked thinly.

"We need to keep our eye on the prize," he said, taking his eyes off of the surroundings—he was probably casing the joint out of habit—and meeting her gaze.

"You should see me dance in this thing." Sara grinned and pulled her arms up as much as possible without pulling the stitches and did a little sway of her hips, an action fully scandalous in the era.

Like always, he was blunt. "I would rather see you out of it."

 

 

 

 

 

The thing with time travel was that it was hard to keep track of how many weeks or months had actually gone by for the personal timelines of the people on the ship. Sara didn't know how long it had been since she and Leonard first started talking about their codes and morals, since he kissed her with his hands in her hair and the wind whipping around them like they belonged in some eye-roll worthy movie scene, since they learned each other's subtle signs so well to know exactly when to meet at Sara's door…

It felt long enough to feel real. And that was something neither of them had expected. Sara kept her turmoil to herself, and Leonard never shared that sort of thing with her. The most emotional he got with her was when he talked about meeting Mick when they were freezing to death, or when he told her about his sister.

They traveled close to 2015 once and Sara had the selfish urge to ask if they could somehow go to the time near when they left so she could talk to her sister. But then another version of Chronos appeared and they had to fight off time pirates and the Waverider got damaged. There hadn't been time.

 

 

 

 

 

Sara woke in a room. It was small, barely large enough for her to stand in, and hold her arms out to either side. She didn't discern any seams from what she could feel. There was no light, just darkness.

An hour later and she felt that the room had grown smaller.

Another hour and she definitely knew that it was steadily getting small.

She sat down and kicked out, trying to find weaknesses but coming up empty.

After a few more hours, the room was only big enough for her to crouch.

Her heart began to beat more rapidly than she could keep it calm. She didn't like the darkness…it reminded her too much of her own personal shadows, about how it felt to die. And here…she was so alone. She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't discern where she was or who had taken her.

By the time she had to slide down half on her back, her legs pulled in tight to her body, she was sweating and her heart was in her throat and her stomach and everywhere it shouldn't have been. She was shaking, panic overtaking. It was animal instinct, something she couldn't fight. She tried kicking again, finally breaking and calling out.

"Let me out!" Her voice was hoarse from underuse. She pushed her palms against the walls. She barely had space to move. She was surprised she hadn't run out of oxygen yet. She said it again, louder, pounding her fist against the wall. It was hard and made a dingy sound like it was some sort of metal.

Ten minutes passed with her calling out every now and again, the same three words, when she felt that the walls were moving even closer. She hadn't seen light in more hours than she could keep track of, and she refused to die this way. The sweating and shaking didn't stop. She hated feeling so helpless and weak. She promised herself before that she would never feel that way ever again.

As her last bit of sanity was overtaken by panic and anxiety, she called out a name. She was barely thinking, all she wanted to do was thrash until she managed to get _out_. She was in full survival mode.

"Leonard!" she choked out, tears adding to the mix of sweat across her face. The fact that it was his name she called didn't even give her pause.

She was going to die here, in some unknown place. She couldn't go through that again.

She squeezed her eyes shut. There was no need to keep them open. She was overcome with her own heartbeat. Her brain could barely process the situation.

She fell. Rapidly. Her appendages were thrown out around her at odd angles from their cramped position. She landed heavily on solid ground without the ability to soften her fall. The dim light was harsh against her eyes and she squinted as her brain raced to catch up with the situation.

She sucked in deep breaths, though it wasn't enough to stop herself from shaking like she had hypothermia. She heard fighting and yells and grunts and her vision was so blurred that she was useless.

Someone stepped heavily into the room. She could tell where they were, but she could barely see.

"Sara." The voice was remarkably soft and loud at the same time. It had been so long since she had heard anything other than her own strangled screams.

Sara felt completely vulnerable and defenseless. She had never been scared like that before, not even when she was dying. "Len—" She tried to say his full name but the air was caught in her chest.

He knelt down beside her and she reached for him, breaking her rule about touching him first. He didn't flinch even a little, allowing her to grab onto him with what little strength she had left in her arms. His hand came down gently against her hair, matted and full of sweat.

He didn't question. She could have stayed there for ages until her limbs stopped vibrating against her will, but he quickly slid his hand under her arm and helped her stand.

"We have to go," he said as her legs refused to hold her weight and she sagged against him.

She squeezed her eyes shut and put all of her strength into her hands gripping his jacket. It was all she could do not to fall to the floor again.

He knew the situation better than she did. She was barely there in her own mind to register him quickly transferring his gun to her grasp before grabbing her under the knees and around the back, lifting her off of the ground. She was dead weight, but he moved swiftly toward the sounds of fighting.

Her ears decided they didn't want to process noise, but she saw glimpses of shadows and yells and felt Leonard moving quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

The entire town lay out beneath them in the valley. Snow bitten wind whipped around them. The rest were heading back to the ship. Leonard was enjoying the cold and the quiet.

"We did it," Sara said, shivering slightly beside him. "We saved that entire town. Wonder if I can put that on my resume."

The corner of Leonard's mouth twitched up in his version of a smile. "I highly doubt that."

"I mean… _we_ saved them," Sara insisted on repeating. Meaning her and Leonard. The others had gotten compromised, and it had been up to the crook and assassin to save thousands of people. The two most morally gray characters on the ship, and they had taken the highest road to victory.

"I heard what you said." He turned away from the valley, his hood pulled up but threatening to fall.

Sara shrugged, wondering why she thought more of an answer would be had from him. "Enjoying the cold?"

"I am."

She saw him move out of the corner of her eye and turned as his hand, ungloved with frigid skin, moved toward her chin. "What?" she asked as his fingers tucked under her chin.

He looked at her just long enough for her to protest if she wanted, before he leaned down and kissed her. The movement pulled his hood down and they were both hit with blasts of cold.

Sara found herself leaning her body toward his without thinking and settling her smaller, gloved hands against his jacket. They were both cold, their skin tight and chilled. They broke apart for a brief moment, sucking in air that Sara was sure made icicles in her lungs. Without pause, she stepped closer and rose a bit on her toes as his other hand joined his first, cupping her face and tangling in her wind-tossed hair.

Just as she was sure she was going to start freezing from the inside out, he stepped back, taking a moment before retracting his hands. Sara looked at him with a tilt to her head and brows.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I was enjoying the cold."

A thin laugh followed him back to the ship.

 

 

 

 

 

When she woke up, she was in the infirmary. There was a needle in her arm and someone—she hoped it was Kendra—had changed her into warmer, softer clothes. She blinked, her eyes still growing adjusted. She made a sound and Martin Stein was at her side in a moment.

"Hello, Sara," he said kindly.

"Hey, Doc," she said as cheerfully as she could muster. "What's the prognosis?"

He glanced at the screen on the wall, but Gideon offered nothing, staying quiet. "It appears your body went into full shock. You were close to a heart attack, which would have…probably killed you. Luckily, we found you in time and freed you from that horrible prison."

Sara skipped over the possible death and focused on the prison. "You have no idea." She tried to keep up her brave front, but even if she couldn't, she would blame the circumstances and never speak of it again.

"You should be fine after some rest. Would you like to stay here or return to your room?"

She still felt like jello so she settled back against the surprisingly comfortable chair. "Here is fine." She gave him a soft smile before she felt pulled to sleep again.

 

 

 

 

 

Some hours later, she woke up, feeling much more like herself, if not a bit weak and decidedly a bit less stable on her feet than usual. After carefully removing the IV from her arm, she thanked Gideon—she still felt odd thanking an empty room—and moved out into the hall, rubbing blood and life back into her arms.

The ship appeared to be stationary now. They must have flown while she was unconscious, and she luckily didn't feel any negative side effects from it. She didn't walk directly back to her room. Instead, she turned down the adjoining corridor and stopped in front of a door that she'd never been in a condition to enter before.

Leonard's room was _his_. She knew he was a private person, and she respected that, but with the ship so quiet, she had a feeling this was the best place she could find him.

It took her a while of standing there before she lifted a hand and knocked. It barely made a sound, and she was about to turn away, when the door slid open. Leonard stood there in a t-shirt and soft pants. He looked about ready to sleep.

"Hey," she said, realizing now that she didn't know what to say besides thank you and even that seemed small in comparison to what he actually had done for her.

He nodded. "You're looking better."

"Yeah…thanks." That was exactly what she _didn't_ want to say. She rubbed her upper arm with her hand and looked at him, meeting his intense gaze with one that was usually much more strong, but she didn't have the strength tonight. "I mean…can…can I talk to you?"

Leonard looked ready to tell her that they were, in fact, already speaking, but after a small hesitation, he stepped aside. She held her breath and walked past him. She didn't know what she expected. None of them had anything of their own to bring except what they had on their backs, so everyone's room was nearly identical. She noted his cold gun on the counter where she kept her staffs.

The door closed and she turned to face him. He looked slightly uncomfortable with her being in his space.

"This won't take long," she insisted. He blinked slowly and dropped his head. She knew it as his way of saying it was fine and she should just say what needed to be said and be gone. "I…the prison or cell or _thing_ that I was kept in. It kept getting smaller the longer I was in there."

He nodded. "I'm surprised you fit." He must have been the first one there to see her tumble about of it as it hovered midair in that room.

"Barely." She glanced around, rubbing out her arms some more to give herself something to do. "The um…the longer I was in there, the more I started to panic. It was pitch black and there was no sound or anything. It…it reminded me of dying."

He didn't say a thing, but she thought she saw him noticeably let loose some of his muscles in his torso.

"I…completely freaked out. I don't think I've ever felt that…alone and scared." She lowered her eyes, staring at his knees until she saw him shift slightly forward. She raised them and met his gaze. "So, _thank you_ for…everything."

He seemed to understand exactly what she was thanking him for, as well as why it sounded more like an apology. He surprised her by closing the space between them and putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're welcome," he said, the most genuine thing she'd heard him say since they almost froze to death after the hull breech.

She thought he was going to hug her, which was stepping into territory that was much too close and weird for her, so she just pressed her lips into a line that slowly made its way into a smile. "Be careful, Cold, being kind is starting to look good on you."

Leonard looked disgruntled with her observation and took his hands back. "I sure as hell hope not."

She laughed lightly. "I'm gonna go," she said, stepping around him and toward the door. "I'll see you later."

He twisted around as the door slid open. "Yeah," he said, inclining his head ever so slightly.

She gave him a tiny wave after stepping out and before the door closed. She felt exhausted even after sleeping half a day away, but at least now her mind was clear and she could rest. She hugged her arms around herself and backtracked to her room.

The ship was quiet and Gideon didn't intrude on the silence. Sara got back to her room, now used to the familiar surroundings, and quickly crawled into bed. She didn't have time to freak out, thankfully, her ordeal pulling her right into deep sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She didn't have to worry. Everything went back to normal. The team was in place. Leonard only touched her when he thought no one else was looking. Sara donned a number of outfits for undercover work.

Occasionally she spent the night in Leonard's room. Jax caught her leaving his bunk one late evening and she refused to talk about it, threatening Jax with a slow and painful death if he even thought of bringing it up in casual conversation.

It seemed to do the trick.


End file.
